


Not the Definition of Slow

by tryslora



Category: Welcome to PHU Series - Tris Lawrence
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Post-Canon, Shapeshifting, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 15:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: Tony's spent 22 hours in a truck with Tanner and Luca. By the time he gets to PHU, all he wants to do is replace their scent with Ángel's, as quickly as he can.





	Not the Definition of Slow

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for [Welcome to PHU](http://welcometophu.tumblr.com). In case you know my writing, but not this fandom, and are curious.
> 
> I got to talking with froggydarren, as we do, about things that would happen after canon ends in _Not Your Destiny_. And one of the post-canon but actually is canon things is that for spring break, Tanner road trips up to PHU in his truck to see Hayley. Well, of course Tony goes along with him to see Ángel, and Luca tags along for the ride. There's an entire (short) story being written about that trip, and while discussing that, I realized that this particular story is Tony's outcome of the whole mess. TBH, I don't think Ángel minds. :)

Ángel’s at the door to his room before Tony knocks. His presence pricks at Ángel’s senses, tickles along his skin as soon as Tony enters the dormitory. Ángel feels his approach as he climbs the stairs to the third floor, and he waits, hand on the knob.

He twists and yanks the door open just as Tony raises his hand to knock.

Tony growls softly, twisting into a querying whine. He pushes Ángel back against the frame of the door, cradles his face and kisses him hard, tongue slipping into his mouth as Ángel lets him in. Ángel’s throat vibrates with an answering growl, voicing his pleasure at Tony’s presence. He gets his hands over Tony’s shoulders, laces his fingers together at the nape of his neck and tugs him closer. It’s been too long since they kissed. Ángel didn’t realize how much he’d need to taste Tony, how visceral it would be to catch his scent, but it is, and he could happily drown in it now.

Someone clears their throat; Tony draws back, lip curled in a snarl. It’s like a bucket of cold water over Ángel’s head, reminding him that they aren’t alone.

He puts a hand on Tony’s chest, stops him from stepping further into the room. “Don’t scare my roommate.”

“Mm.” Tony doesn’t disagree, but he doesn’t exactly agree, either. Ángel takes his hands, tugs him into the room and closes the door.

Shane coughs again, and Ángel finally turns to look at where Shane sits on his bed, cane leaning up against the side. Ángel winces as he introduces himself in the wake of Ángel’s silence. “I’m Shane. Ángel’s roommate. And I’m guessing you’re Tony.”

Tony grunts softly. He wraps his arms around Ángel’s waist from behind, tugs him to fit Ángel’s back to his front. He buries his face behind Ángel’s ear, nuzzling and rubbing his cheek against his skin.

“This is Tony, yes,” Ángel manages to say. His skin is sparking with pleasure, little lights rolling down his fingertips, leaping off into the distance in a rain of tiny fireworks. “He’s usually a lot less cat and a lot more human, although not always much more verbal.” The words run out in a shiver down his spine. “Shane, would you mind—?”

Shane grabs the cane, leverages himself to standing. “I need to meet Jess at the library. I’ll just grab dinner and be an hour early. Maybe if I text her, she’ll bring me coffee.”

“It’s cold out,” Tony mumbles, breath hot on Ángel’s skin. “Warm me up.”

There is nothing that Ángel wants more.

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse. Rough. “Sorry. I just—”

Shane raises his hands and Ángel cuts off before the conversation can go x-rated with his roommate still standing there. Shane grabs the cane again and walks carefully forward. “No details, please,” Shane says. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I’ll crash at Jess’s later. Besides, she’s on the first floor. I won’t have to climb up the stairs.”

Tony inhales, slowly moves to rest his chin on Ángel’s shoulders. “What happened?” It’s a comfortable, slow rumble, like he’s half drunk, soft with his words.

Shane blinks, pausing at Tony’s attention. “Broke my leg skiing. I’m a slow healer. And it’s not the first time, so chances are a good part of the damage is going to be permanent. I’ve been accident prone my whole life.” He grabs his backpack, shrugs into it with careful motion. Ángel sees the flash on the inside of Shane’s wrist, the clouded ink that’s been there for months now, without resolving, ever since Shane helped with the ceremony last December.

Shane’s a great roommate, and a great friend. But lately it seems like Ángel’s been causing more trouble than not. At least the accident wasn’t his fault; he was down in Florida when it happened.

Shane leans against the door, letting it take his weight. “Seriously, don’t worry about throwing me out. Jess is my best friend, and I’ve spent most of my time there since the semester started just because she doesn’t have to deal with stairs. She has a single, anyway.”

Tony’s hand slides under the bottom edge of Ángel’s shirt, presses warm and flat against his stomach. Ángel makes a strangled noise, and Shane’s gaze shifts to look past them, awkwardly avoiding their eyes.

“Right. I’m leaving now. Good to meet you, Tony,” Shane says, and backs out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

Tony spins Ángel, crowds him up against the door, their bodies aligning as Tony buries his face in the crook of Ángel’s throat. “I have been locked in that truck with Tanner and Luca for twenty-two hours on the road, plus one night in a motel room,” Tony mutters into Ángel’s skin. “I need your scent now.”

Ángel is not going to deny this. He really, really is not. “Good, good,” he murmurs, one palm pressed against Tony’s cheek, shifting him so he can meet his lips, nip at him and kiss him deeply. “Jesus. Fuck, Tony. I missed being able to touch you. We just barely started this before I left.”

“Been thinking about it,” Tony admits. “When we talk, and I see that video of you, I think about touching you. About you touching me.”

“Did the packages help?” Ángel had slept in the same shirt, night after night, for the first week after getting back to PHU. He’d taken that shirt, sealed it carefully in a bag, and sent it off to Tony. And while Tony had never mentioned it, Ángel had done it again in the middle of February, and he planned to send another one back with him at the end of Spring Break.

“Brought them back. Need a new one.” Tony kisses the side of Ángel’s neck, slides down to graze his teeth across Ángel’s collarbone. He tugs the collar of Ángel’s shirt aside, sucks a mark into his skin.

“Fuck.” Ángel grips his shoulders, clings to him as his knees waver. “Tony. Let me get this off.” Ángel grabs the hem of his shirt, yanks it over his head. Then he grabs onto Tony’s shirt, twists it, tries to ruck it up. “Yours, too. Come on. Skin to skin.”

Tony wraps his hand around Ángel’s wrist, and he stops abruptly.

Shit.

Slow. They’re taking it slow. They had this conversation right before Ángel left Florida, and now Ángel’s… shit. He needs to fix this.

“Do you want to?” Ángel asks slowly, voice low and worried. “I should’ve asked.”

Tony steps back, carefully lifts his own shirt and tosses it aside. Ángel thinks it might land on Shane’s bed, and they’ll have to move that later, but right now he doesn’t care. Tony is half naked, on purpose and with intent in his eyes, and it may not be words, but Ángel’s willing to take that as his answer. Ángel closes the distance between them again, kisses just below Tony’s collarbone, nips at him and loves the answering growl.

“Ángel.” That soft, slightly flat pronunciation, mixing Ángel’s name with the angelic being.

Ángel looks up as Tony frames his face with his hands. He meets Tony’s gaze, licks his lips. “What?”

“I want to get my scent all over you,” Tony says quietly. “Everywhere. I want to strip you naked. I want to lick you. Bite you. And I want you to do that to me. When I leave here, I want to smell like I’ve been rolling around in you, like we’re one person. You’re my soulmate, and I want anyone who can smell you to know that.”

Wow. Just… fuck.

“Yes. Yeah. Yes. Please. Let’s do that.” Ángel fumbles for the lock, manages to twist it closed. Shane’s already said he’ll stay at Jess’s place, so that’s good. Ángel just doesn’t want a well-meaning friend or RA to walk in on something that would traumatize them all. “Bed? Naked and bed?”

“Eloquent.” Tony drops a hand to Ángel’s waistband, twists the button of his jeans open, then steps back. He opens his own fly, pushes it wide. “Naked and bed. Yes.”

Ángel’s too busy watching Tony shove his jeans down to pay attention to what he’s doing. He gets tangled in his jeans, ends up hopping and falling backwards onto his ass on the floor. He’d get up, but Tony’s right there with him, straddling his thighs, mouth pressed to Ángel’s chest.

There is no fucking way he’s capable of doing anything else other than making a high-pitched whine, and whispering, “Fucking Christ. More.”

Tony closes his teeth over Ángel’s nipple; Ángel arches his back, hips rising up. He closes his eyes tightly, scrunching them shut, then he grabs for Tony’s head, holding him in place before he tries to nudge him further down his body. “Don’t stop.”

Tony mumbles something as he kisses Ángel, licks every bit of his chest. It’s slow and steady, little licks and nips that drive Ángel mad. Tony rubs his cheek along the side of Ángel’s ribs, nips at the taut skin across his stomach. Tony’s hands are on his thighs, nudging them apart, and Ángel shifts his hips, begging for more touch.

Tony presses his face into the crook of Ángel’s groin, nuzzles in close and inhales, tongue flicking against tender skin.

“Fuck, Tony.” Ángel twists his fingers in his hair, tries to convince him to change direction, but Tony seems to be making good on that promise to lick him everywhere.

Tony pushes Ángel’s legs until his knees bend, spreading him wide. It’s awkward, and Ángel doesn’t care, because Tony’s nosing at his balls, licking a stripe just behind them, and Ángel swears he is going to orgasm before anyone even touches his cock.

Wait. He has hands. Fuck, he needs to do that.

Ángel lets go of Tony with one hand, wraps his fingers around his own cock, and Tony stops. Tony raises his head, growling softly, and Ángel lets his grip fall loose, drops his hand away. A soft, self-satisfied noise, and Tony licks a stripe from root to tip, along the underside of Ángel’s cock.

Ángel’s head hits the floor as it falls back. “Fucking trying to kill me,” he mutters. “Fuck, Tony. Touch me. Please.” Tony takes him in his mouth, and Ángel’s hips jerk up. “Christ!” His cock jerks with the movement before Tony lets him go.

Ángel whines. “Fuck. Don’t stop. Please.”

“Not done yet,” Tony says, and he licks lower, captures one of Ángel’s balls in his mouth and sucks until Ángel whines again, because Jesus fucking Christ that feels good.

And Tony keeps going, pressing his face to one cheek of Ángel’s ass. Nuzzling, kissing, biting the flesh until Ángel’s damn sure it’s left a mark. Then he spreads Ángel’s cheeks and licks a stripe between them, focusing on the tight hole until Ángel shouts. His cock lies against his stomach, dripping, and he’s so fucking close. “Tony. Jesus. I’m going to come and you’re not even touching my fucking dick,” Ángel mutters.

It seems to be enough to get Tony’s attention.

Tony crawls back up over him, straddles him so that their cocks line up. He wraps his hand around Ángel’s cock, presses his thumb in the slit, then uses the drip to stroke down his length.

Ángel makes a strangled noise, tries not to come on the spot. “Do you want this to be over before we get started?” Ángel asks.

“We’re already started,” Tony murmurs. “This is good. Going to get your scent all over me. Get mine all over you.” He settles in closer, their cocks sliding together as he leans forward, one hand braced next to Ángel’s shoulder. He keeps his other hand wrapped around them both, stroking firmly, pressing their cocks together as his hips thrust. Ángel tries to meet him, thrusting up into the tight circle of Tony’s fingers.

He reaches for Tony, frames his face, pulls him down to kiss him hungrily. Tony kisses the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, trailing down to his neck and throat.

It’s the moment when teeth clamp down lightly on Ángel’s shoulder that he loses control, thighs going tight as he orgasms. Tony thrusts down hard against him, and Ángel reaches for his ass, squeezes as he pulls him close, and Tony grunts through his own orgasm.

Breath shudders out; Ángel shakes in the aftermath.

Tony kisses his shoulder soothingly, licks at the mark he’s left. Ángel finally manages to open his eyes when he realizes they’re closed. His bed seems so far away, lofted high above them. “We didn’t—” He trails off, because his bed’s there. Even Shane’s bed’s there. And this is the floor. Something didn’t go according to plan. “What happened to—” He struggles, tries again. “Weren’t we… slow?”

Tony laughs softly, warm and slow as he nuzzles into the crook of Ángel’s neck. Post-orgasm, Tony is loose and snuggly, wrapped tight around Ángel and pulling him onto his chest as he rolls over and falls back against the floor. “Just spent twenty-two hours in a truck with Tanner and Luca,” he mutters. “Told you that. Needed your scent.”

Ángel nods, stroking his fingers along the nape of Tony’s neck, loving the soft rumbling purr he gets in return. That makes sense. Except… “Wait. What does Tanner have to do with this?”

Tony grumbles, buries his face tighter against Ángel’s neck. “When he figures it out, I’m sure you’ll hear about it.” He sighs, closes his eyes. “We should get in the bed. I’m not done licking you yet.”

“I thought Gabi was the one who liked licking people to claim them.”

Ángel’s lifted into the air before he realizes what’s happening, then Tony drops him on his bed. A moment later, a cat leaps up next to him, nips at his heel before becoming Tony again and stretching out on top of him.

“Don’t talk about Gabi when we’re naked,” Tony orders gently. “Don’t talk about Gabi licking you. Not any more.”

“I’m not hers,” Ángel assures him, pulling him in for another kiss. “But if you want to stake your claim and lick me everywhere, I’m not going to argue. I might even be able to survive it this time around without going off unexpectedly. Feel free to try to make a liar out of me.”

Ángel really doesn’t mind when Tony does. Repeatedly.

So much for slow.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)! And if you want to read the source material for this fandom, you can find it at [Welcome to PHU](http://welcometophu.tumblr.com).


End file.
